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Bayanihan Fund Drive: Donate to Ondoy Flood Victims
Taken from chocolateword.net: Here’s BarrioSiete Official Form for it:
Thousands have lost their homes, many children are now hungry and stranded on their rooftops. Rescue workers are overloaded with the burden of saving thousands waiting to be saved. Please help by putting a badge or making a small donation.If you would be so kind as to help please click this link and you land on the official donation page. To post a badge for your blog copy paste this code: <a href="http://barriosiete.com/donate-for-ondoy-victims/"> <img src="http://barriosiete.com/wp-content/images/img_OndoyCampaign.png" alt="Barrio Bayanihan" /></a> I donated a few dollars to this cause. Hope you can do the same. * * * * *(francess raymundo) What did you learn from the flooding? [ a question from Talkback ] 1 Answer: I learned that the corrupt politicians should write this on the board, a hundred times: I promise not to misuse tax money from the people, ever again. If I can't keep my promise, I promise to share some of that money with the DPWH. We're supposed to be this peace loving nation. I can't believe that I've had this string of bullies around me for 3 months now. Why peace loving? It's the best time for militant groups to have 1 of those protests against corruption in the Philippines. No protests. No open letter printed in the newspapers. They're probably thinking, " Why bother?". So we help out, any which way we can and pretend not to notice that the whole country has chosen to'pardon' those corrupt politicians of ours...for the nth time. * * * * * My aunt called today. If it's any consolation, San Juan City's city plumbing isn't all that bad. Mr. Sarao butingting/Mr. Ahem/ Lactao Street's de tsinelas symphonic orchestra/etc./ ... all 'back in business',very early in the morning, today. I wrote to my sister. I waited for the guy (Mr. E.K./ Mr. Thoughts) to ask about me and the weather. It isn't like him not to ask. I have not left the house in 22 days. I'm trying to learn Mandarin Chinese. My list of activities is getting longer. I've found where those temples have been hiding. I've been learning how to pray the Great Compassion Mantra. I'm checking its translation. I don't want to be 1 of those devotees who chant their prayers without knowing what they're saying. I've been praying to dear Mother Kuan Yin. Praying for her love and protection. Praying for her to help me with the Tao to stay happy. Being bullied by strangers isn't the kind of situation that enables a person to live his or her life, quietly. It's a very difficult situation. I lack air and sunshine. My face has this annoying stress rash. Just 1 of the glorious gifts from the bullies who just don't want to give their misdeeds: a rest. This picture of dear Mother Kuan Yin comes with a copyright.It's by an artist named Spring Liao. Here's a link to her website "Springgreeting". Spring uses these words: all good things. Imagine that.
My mother understands why I've chosen to be a Taoist follower. I have to constantly remind her that to be a Taoist is not to be a Buddhist. It's a religion that I believe in. I've been open to it since my high school days. I came to know about the Tao during my senior year.I've read enough about it to know that its followers engage in practices which are deeply related to the ways of the Chinese Buddhists. I have yet to see if I shall be treated with the same kind of disrespect and abuse [such horrors did greet me inside my mother's place of worship, this year] while I go about my religious obligations. I have faith in mother Kuan Yin's mercy. She will not allow it. It's not right to provoke a person to lose his or her faith in other people. Just the same, I'm glad that our practices aren't "cultish". I've the optimistic feeling that I shan't be ridiculed or be bothered when I pray inside our temples. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I've embraced this religion. It was very easy, for the group that was behind the terrible harassment phase [ June to early August ] inside the law school (Manila Law College) which I had to leave, to scare me into leaving. 1. Ok, so I should have gone to my Grandfather's alma mater. 2. It doesn't seem like "the gentlest won over the hardest" in the said situation but "the gentlest" did "win", in a way. None of them managed to push me down those 110 year old stair steps. I left before anyone had the chance to do so. What with the sudden rule that students aren't allowed to use the elevator to descend from upper floors.(?!!?) I was probably the only student with a fear of heights, there. You never can tell.I could have been the only student there who couldn't use those stairs without falling, at some point. I feel very sad. My former students wouldn't want to see me like this. They'd wonder where she went to; dear Ms.Raymundo who had that candid (and sweet) smile. 对 不 起 She's been finding it very hard to feel free, in her own country.
rose #1Day count: 3 months of his silence.
Mr. Thoughts has really turned into that other guy.
relentlessly indifferent.
* * * * *
My grandmother turned 102 years old today.
Happy birthday grandma. I love you and I miss you very much.
You shouldn't have left me,yet.
The house seems awfully empty without you.
With you gone, my life's turned into muck.
Filipinos have no respect for the dead. They have no respect for the grieving.
How to tell the harassment army that we don't live on Elm Street?
* * * * *
Salinawit ng "Where or When" [ Saan o Kailan ]What does someone like me do, while I'm trapped here in my mother's house? I'm finishing the cd that goes to the printers for Paromila's book. Do freelance survival work.Think of likely ways to write myself into an acceptable freedom. Complain about chronic backpain. Weep some. Smile some. Touch my mom's hair. Do some of the things that I used to do before...when I could still leave the house...when I could still spend time with other people without being harassed by strangers. Ito na siguro ang pinaka-paborito kong awit. Gusto ko ang version ni Harry Connick, Jr. Hindi ko gusto iyung version ni Frank Sinatra o iyung cover ni Rod Stewart. Hindi ako kumakanta kapag may audience. Hindi din ako kumakanta para sa audience. Ako ay aawit lamang kung may boyfriend ako na papalakpak para sa akin at para sa aking pag-kanta, kahit gaano pa ka-desintonado ito. Ngunit, yaman din lamang na completely love-less ako, wasto lang at nakabubuti, ang manatiling ganito. Nangangarap at nanaginip na may magmamahal sa akin. Puwera biro, kaya ko gusto ang awit na ito, kasi, noon nakakausap ko pa ang lalaking iyon ( yung nakasalamin, kulot ang buhok, iyung naninigaw at nang-aaway, iyung hindi Pinoy, yung mas matanda sa akin ng siyam na taon...Oo. Siya nga.) bagay sa amin ang mga lyrics. Yun lagi ang suot niyang polo shirt. Isang beses lang siyang naka-short sleeves. Ganoon lagi ang amoy niya. Amoy pinaghalong pawis at cologne. Amoy sigarilyo. (Sorry. Eh, sa Yosi-Kadiri boys and girls kaming dalawa eh. Balang araw, titigil din akong manigarilyo. Titigil ako kapag tinigilan na rin ang panghaharass sa akin.) Laging nakaplaster sa noo niya ang kulot niyang bangs, basa sa pawis kasi nag-tren at naglakad ang mokong. Tinamad nanaman mag-maneho sa kanila. Ako naman,ganoon lagi ang hairstyle ko. May bangs, layered, mahabang-mahaba. Yun lagi ang pabango ko, pinaghalong Paul Smith at Gucci II (iyung pink). Amoy diet Coke ang dinidighay ko. Nakatakip ng contact lenses ang tunay na kulay ng aking mga mata. Hindi pa niya nakikitang,harap-harapan, ang kulay ng aking mga mata. Hindi niya makikita, kailanman. Dahil pinagmalupitan nanaman ako ng langit. O pag-ibig, kapag pumasok sa buhay ni Miss. Raymundo, laging ume-ending sa, " Miss Raymundo is a 'la lang". Kung bakit hindi na nagbago ito, wala na yata akong paki-alam. Kung sino ba talaga ang tunay na nakakaalam. Hindi ko alam kung na-translate na ni Mr. Pete Lacaba ang awit na ito. Pero ito yung aking translation.
Kailan o Saan translation of " Where Or When" translated by Francess S. Raymundo
Tayo'y nagkita na 'ata noon Nagusap,nagkatinginan na, noon Kailan o Saa'y, 'di ko alam Damit na suot mong 'yan, ay suot mo rin Nakita ko na rin ang ngiti mong 'yan Kailan o Saa'y, 'di ko alam. Ang nangyari na yata noon Parang nangyayaring muli Noon yata'y nagkakilala na Tayo ay nagmahalan na Kailan? Hindi Alam 'di masabi, Saan. ('di masabi, ang S'an)
P.S. o Pahabol: Oo nga. Mas maganda kung gagamitin ko ang " ...Saan? Kailan? Hindi ko alam. " At saka,
" Saan? Hindi Alam. 'Di Masabi, Kailan?"
So, ganito pala ang aking translation
Saan o Kailan translation of " Where Or When" translated by Francess S. Raymundo
Tayo'y nagkita na 'ata noon Nagusap,nagkatinginan na, noon Saan o Kailan, 'di ko alam Damit na suot mong 'yan, ay suot mo rin Nakita ko na rin ang ngiti mong 'yan Saan o Kailan, 'di ko alam. Ang nangyari na yata noon Parang nangyayaring muli Noon yata'y nagkakilala na Tayo ay nagmahalan na Saan, Hindi alam 'di masabi, Kailan.
Where Or When Songwriters: Rodgers, Richard; Hart, Lorenz
It seems we stood and talked like this before We looked at each other in the same way then But I can't remember where or when The clothes you're wearing are the clothes you wore The smile you are smiling you were smiling then But I can't remember where or when Some things that happened for the first time Seem to be happening again And so it seems that we have met before And laughed before and loved before But who knows where or when Who knows where or when. IiSsNn1. I miss my sister. She's in Russia.
2. I gave away most of my beautiful clothes. Now I miss some of them. Like my favorite Ms. Raymundo skirt. My favorite Ma'am Raymundo skirt.
3. I miss my uncle Michael.
4. I miss dancing. I can't dance anymore. No partner.
5. I miss having my nails done.
6. I miss going to the beauty parlor.
7. I miss my very bad tempered Mr. Thoughts. mr. mild mannered reporter... very bad tempered guy [ he did ruin my birthday annivs...more than once... made me very happy on my birthday anniv...once] I dedicated my master's thesis to him, last year. Good thing he doesn't know. His name is printed on the first page...he'd just slap me and rid me of all my teeth if he ever sees it...he has small hands...but then again, he'd probably use his foot to bash my face in... oh, well... we can't choose who we fall in love with...
oh well...at least now he can't say that he doesn't treat me as if i were just some dog...his dogs fare better. Why so? He doesn't ignore them. He can't.
There's my love life for you. I love a guy who'd love and cherish a dog but who wouldn't love and cherish me.
my friends will probably yawn at this. i still have a few around. they'll think, "what's new?"
they all knew it, anyway.
no one i've loved ever kept me.
8. i miss my grandparents...just the one set of them
9. i miss curling my hair
10. i miss going to the mall with my mother. i miss seeing her without her walking cane.
My Mama Nora.Etc.I love my mother. She's still alive but I find myself crying when I think about her. It's making her very unhappy. Me, not teaching. I wish people could mind their own business...leave us alone. I just won't dance the triple tango for people I don't know. Having a broken heart is hell enough. It really is.
* * * *
I'd never break a heart. If my mother dies ahead of me, I wouldn't be able to say that I broke her heart. I'm cowering in fear at home because these g*d damn strangers are relentless...doesn't break my mom's heart. Just makes her quite unhappy. Three rooms on the 2nd floor, painted in the hue of a g*d damned motel...I'm in 1 of the rooms like some jail bird. It's called keeping myself alive, for my mother. I'm still alive. This makes my mom happy.
* * * * *
It hurts me when my mama talks about him. I wonder about all the bad luck I've been getting. I wish I'd never met him. He's become the only guy whose heart I couldn't melt. Just when the world has all these gadgets...some guy who tends goats in Russia has just said goodnight to his Indonesian girlfriend -- the girl eating slices of guava inside an internet cafe.
Here I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm cursing everything and everyone I can think of. Feeling sorry that he's the one guy whose likeness I've ever tried to draw. God help me, he'd hate how he looks like the guy who heats up the pages of graphic piece I'm trying to finish. I don't care since what I do is called art. I do hate, as well...anyway.
I hate how there's nothing to replace his, " But you don't have me." with.
Here's a guy who can stand it...giving me a broken heart that's for keeps.
* * * * *
Probably makes him very happy and very content. Him being the type who only likes to do things...perfectly.
He's broken my heart in the most perfect way.
* * * * *
These dogs are so lovely. All these crazy sounds are lovely. As lovely as Twilight Zone episodes from the early 90s.
I feel like a mystery novel writer living in a no star hotel...somewhere in the US. Maybe New York.
13 doesn't chill my heart. I happen to think that it's a lucky number. 1 + 3 = 4.
* * * * *
When do people learn, huh? You can't beat our heads down with your caveman clubs. Quit it. Go away.
Artists will be artists. I'm not cutting an earlobe for anyone. I've lost my Cezanne.
* * * * *
When he kissed my cheeks, I suddenly felt: very, very young.
* * * * *
manila rose moving address.....I'm moving Bb. Ma'am Engot to another address. An address that does not contain the number 69.
Moving her to -
It has the number 13 in it but so does the alphabet. I get my humor. I don't care if other people don't get my good sense of humor.
So...g'bye number 69.aspx
tsktsktsk. scenes from a lifeBb.Ma'am Engot's life is turning into a tragedy.
It shouldn't turn into a tragedy.
Bb. Ma'am Engot wishes that "her" Ginoong Sir Iniibig isn't the reason why the Bb. is becoming a bilanggo in their own house. What's to become of Bb. Ma'am Engot? Ayan siya sa loob ng isolation room. Kawawa naman ang Bb. Kawawa naman siya. Huwag naman sana na "forever" na siyang ganitong ka-kawawa. ***** i miss Mr.Thoughts/ Mr. e.k. I shouldn't miss him. But I do. one call from him will change things, i know. i can't call him. only God can make Mr. Thoughts/Mr. e.k. call me...change things into happy warmth for me and for Bb. Ma'am Engot.
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